


Sharing Secrets in the Dark

by geekyjez



Series: Isii Lavellan [9]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Developing Friendships, F/M, Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Pre-Relationship, yet another tent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 13:22:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11059848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekyjez/pseuds/geekyjez
Summary: Isii and Solas have fallen into an unplanned routine, spending night after night in their shared tent talking, sacrificing sleep in favor of hushed conversation.Tonight, Isii proposes a trade. A secret for a secret. It has to be something they've never told anyone before.Pre-romance Solavellan.





	Sharing Secrets in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> This is a quickie prompted by an anon on my tumblr - looking for another pre-relationship tent fic for Isii and Solas.

It was becoming a ritual of sorts.

The two of them, lying on their sides, facing each other across the ever-narrowing distance between their bed rolls- their eyes a pair of golden-green reflections shifting in the darkness as they talked, the low hush of their voices continuing long after their campsite fell silent. Isii had chosen to share a tent with Solas ever since the first time they made camp together. In those early days, they’d hardly said a word, sometimes offering little more than muttered goodnights before drifting off to sleep. But slowly, over time, something changed.

Isii couldn’t quite say why, but part of her felt like she needed it - to talk, to exchange whispers, to have someone to confide in, even if it was about stupid, superficial things. In those moments, their tent became a sanctuary of sorts. The Breach and the war were distant things and she could lay in the shadows with the sound of his voice and allow herself to forget the chaos, if only for a little while.

She was fairly certain the feeling was mutual.

Some nights, he would ask her about herself. Her life among her clan. Her friends. Family. He'd ask her smaller things too, things that did not matter - her favorite foods and sounds and scents. What color did she prefer? If she could paint a picture of anything in perfect detail, what would it be? Other nights, she would try to get him to talk about himself with mixed results. He would grow quieter then, less willing, almost disappointed - though she couldn’t tell if it was her questions or his own limited responses that lowered his mood. Instead, she'd ask him about the Fade, about his dreams. She'd coax him into telling her a story - _any_ story. Anything he wanted. Sometimes, they were beautiful. Sometimes, they were so painfully sad that she found herself sniffling in the darkness while urging him to continue. She could easily lose track of time while listening to him talk, soothed by the rolling rhythm of his voice and more than once they’d staggered out of their tent the next morning, dragging their feet because they’d stayed up far too late.

It was worth it, though. Even if it meant sacrificing a little sleep.

Tonight, she'd asked him about spirits - his friends, specifically. How did he meet them? What did they do together in the Fade? What did they look like? How did he recognize them, if their forms could change with a single thought? There was so much she wanted to learn and the more she asked, the happier he seemed to be- pleased, perhaps even relieved, that she cared enough to inquire and didn’t consider him mad or strange for the friends he kept.  

He was telling her about Wisdom, a spirit he clearly cared for quite deeply. He spoke with gentle words about how he would seek out its council, how their conversations would soothe him, allowing him to renew his sense of purpose whenever he felt his resolve straining. He was in the middle of describing a vision it had shared with him when they heard the shout - both of them tensing instinctively for a split second of panic before the words took shape - a long string of creatively barked curses as Sera told them, in no uncertain terms, to shut their _friggin magey pissbucket mouths and go the fuck to sleep_.

Solas and Isii stared at each other in stunned silence for a moment before a sputtered giggle pushed past Isii’s lips. She tried to suppress it but the tension had snapped and soon they were both lost in the infectious swell of it, the utter ridiculousness of it, the two of them being scolded like children who refused to stop whispering in the night. She couldn’t even explain why it was so funny - she knew, in a way, it shouldn’t be but then Solas was laughing and it only made it harder for her to stop. Isii clamped a hand over her mouth but it did little, their attempts to choke back their outburst failing as their eyes met, causing it to bubble up once more. Isii couldn’t remember the last time she’d lost herself to a fit like this but it had been long before the Conclave, before she left her clan. Sera cursed again and it only made it worse as Isii curled up on her bedroll, giggling until her sides hurt and his chest shook from the strain. Solas caught enough of a breath to manage a moderate apology - one the rogue did not seem to take well, given the noise she made - and eventually the tide lowered to a hushed ripple.

Solas’s chuckling trailed away as he became aware of the look on Isii’s face, staring back at him, smiling broadly. “What?” he asked.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh like that before.” She could see his features tense slightly, self-conscious before she gave a small shake of her head. “It’s good. I like hearing you laugh.”

A soft smile warmed his lips. “We should probably get some sleep.”

“Just a little longer,” she cooed, shifting restlessly against her bedding. An idea formed, shaping quickly on her tongue in a desperate bid to keep the conversation going. “Tell me a secret,” she whispered, grinning. “Something you’ve never told anyone else.”

He studied her for a moment, rolling fully onto his side to face her. “You assume I even have such secrets?”

“Everyone has secrets, Solas,” she murmured.

He paused, his eyes fixing onto her own. “Tell me one of yours, then.”

Her lips parted, closing again as she considered. “Alright,” she began slowly. “I’m the First of my clan-”

“That’s hardly a secret.”

“Hush,” she chided with a giggle, the corner of her lips tilting. “I’m not finished. I’ve been the First since I was… fourteen? Maybe even younger. I don’t remember now. Ever since then, I knew I was going to be the Keeper one day.” She hesitated, wetting her lips. “But I don’t think I actually _want_ to be the Keeper. I don’t think I ever really wanted it.” Her eyes lowered, fingers picking at her blanket as she continued. “I’ve spent over two decades of my life training for it and I’ve never told anyone that.”

“Why not?”

“Because my clan needed a First,” she admitted with a halfhearted shrug. “Because everyone just assumed Deshanna would pick me. She was raising me. I’m a mage. It made sense.”

“But it’s not what you want?”

“I don’t think I know what I want,” she whispered, staring at nothing as her gaze grew distant. “I’ve never really thought about it. I think… before I left for the Conclave, I’d made peace with the role everyone expected me to fulfill. But my world was so small, then. I’d never really been away from my clan for more than a few days. And now… I’m the Herald of Andraste,” she muttered with a huffed laugh, glancing down at her scarred palm. “In a lot of ways, this just feels like another thing everyone expects me to be. It’s not like I have much of a choice.”

“You’re willing to lead because others need you to,” Solas offered gently. “That’s not something to be ashamed of. It’s admirable.”

“So what about you?” she asked, tucking her head into the crook of her arm. “What’s your secret? Something you’ve not told a soul.” His eyes narrowed and she smiled reassuringly. “Come on,” she coaxed. “I told you one of mine. Fair’s fair.”

Solas paused to think, a slow weight settling over his features as he rolled onto his back, staring at the top of their tent. “My own is not too dissimilar from yours, in a way,” he whispered, hesitating before cautiously beginning again. “There was a time when… when I became what others needed me to be. Not because I wanted it, but because it was necessary. Because they needed to believe it.” His fingers toyed restlessly with the jawbone that hung around his neck, nails picking loosely at the dulled teeth. “I told myself it was only temporary. A means to an end. But after enough years had passed…” He lingered in a brief silence and she could tell his mind had wandered somewhere else - somewhere he did not want to be. “There comes a point where you look at yourself and you no longer recognize the person you see. And no matter how hard you try, you cannot quite remember the person you’d been before. I often missed that version of myself. Despite all the advantages I enjoyed, life would have been so much simpler if I had only stayed that way. I never told anyone, however. There was little point in it. My dissatisfaction changed nothing. Besides, I doubted anyone would be able to look at what I had become and ever understand why I’d want to give it up.”

“Is that why you left?” she asked. “Why you’ve been traveling alone for so long?” He glanced over, meeting her eyes, his features briefly settling into something she couldn’t quite read clearly. Then, he pressed a small smile to his lips.

“That would be two secrets, Herald,” he teased gently. “You only bargained for one.”

Isii chuckled, shaking her head. “Ever the man of mystery, aren’t you?” She stretched, letting out a tired sigh. “I suppose that’s one way to keep things interesting.”

His smile slipped into something more genuine. “Get some sleep,” he urged her, settling himself onto his side, facing the wall of the tent.

She stared at his back, watching the slow rise and fall of his ribs for a time. “For what it’s worth,” she whispered, “I like the person you are now.”

Solas didn’t respond at first - didn’t move, save for the slight change in his breathing. It was only after her eyes had closed and the weight of wakefulness began to slip from her limbs that she heard the quiet words, barely drifting over a soft exhale.

“Thank you.”


End file.
